


Raspberries And Honey

by AliAliOxenfree



Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: F/M, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, Tooth Rotting Fluff, apologies in advance to your dentist, as a treat, where the plot takes a break and stops killing our heroes for a few minutes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:41:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28390302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliAliOxenfree/pseuds/AliAliOxenfree
Summary: A moment is stolen and used to the fullest extent.
Relationships: Gale (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Raspberries And Honey

**Author's Note:**

> Hello gang!
> 
> I hope you're all nice and safe and well, and are having a lovely holiday!
> 
> I was recently craving a nice, warm scene (Mostly because it's bloody freezing here in England) and wanted to throw a nice, short n' sweet, soft drabble out! I have not forgotten the main fic haha! It's still WIP, but I want to get it just right before it gets to you!
> 
> Enjoy this tiny but cute little thing - stay nice and safe and I'll see you in the New Year! <3

She wonders how long they have been here for. The tittering birdsong in the trees, the gentle mumbling of the brook beside them, neither of these things give any indication to time passing. Even the sunlight, dappled as it is through the trees, resigns from its duty of timekeeping. The air is still, crisp and scented with fresh morning dew, honeysuckle and pine. If it weren’t for the occasional sounds of a page being turned, or her gentle ministrations against his temple, she would have believed that the world had stopped, and happily so. 

Her right hand, soft and pale, reaches over to the wicker basket to her left. Hidden from the kind light lies a myriad of treasures, swallowed in shadow, and she eagerly plucks a ruby from its pile. Bringing her gem to her lips, she delights in how it grows brighter and more vivid than before. The sunlight streams through it, the tiny seeds inside illuminated, before she swallows, allowing the tangy and tart flavours of the raspberry to slide down her throat in pure bliss. This could be a dream, she thinks, or an illusion. Some spiteful being with magic in full supply at the tips of their fingers could have easily whisked them away into this moment. And in full honesty, she could not have been happier if she’d tried, and would have welcomed such an act with open arms.

The man below her shifts, his head adjusting on her lap as he turns another page in his book, fingers who are as intimately close with paper as they are with her. Her fingers, slender and paler than his own, continue to trail themselves over his temple, his forehead and down the bridge of his nose. 

And then, as if the world wasn’t already at its utmost limit of beauty, she sees him smile, the curve of his lips spreading over his face smoother than butter upon freshly baked bread. His eyes, lidded and heavy with utter bliss, slide up to meet hers in a gaze that only lovers would understand. Nothing is said, nothing breaks their reverie, their moment that hangs in the air as if by magic. 

Her right hand moves, curled and tender fingertips trailing over his hair, spilling over her cotton dress like water. He is warm, from both the sunlight and his own health, the worries and stresses of his magical condition seeming so far away. She notes the faded worry lines on his face, at the corners of his eyes and between his brows, and tries to gently smooth them away with a caress. It doesn’t work, of course. Their dangers, many and varied, are only over the horizon. Soon they will have to leave this spot, retreat under the cool and striking cover of the shade and continue their journey. They are both magically gifted, exceptionally so, but neither possess the gift of foresight. How she aches to have such a thing. 

She finds, deep in her thoughts and her feelings, that her hand has trailed its way over to rest upon his heart. She looks down again and meets his gaze once more, honey and lemon, warmth and tenderness reflecting in those eyes. They are filled with understanding and solemn acceptance, as his own palm comes up to cover her own. They could lose their grip on this mortal plane tomorrow, next week or, if they were so lucky, not for another few decades. The odds are stacked against them and their weak grip on their own mortality is quickly remembered from the parasite slumbering in their heads. 

But for now, in this moment, in this one simple minute of bliss? They would make every single second last. And as she bends over, silver hair tickling his cheeks and his brow as her soft lips meet his own, she is filled with determination to give him more than a few extra seconds.


End file.
